


Hateful Things

by AzraelGFG



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, Fluff, post breadriots, pre battle of the blackwater, sansan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-15
Updated: 2017-05-14
Packaged: 2018-08-17 08:20:22
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 11,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8137069
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AzraelGFG/pseuds/AzraelGFG
Summary: "Why are you always that hateful?"- Sansa"You'll be glad of the hateful things I do some day, when you're Queen and I'm all that stands between you and your beloved King."- the Hound





	1. Prolog

Thanks to @Lalelilolu this story is finally betaed :)


	2. Sansa

Today was the day Sansa had feared since the moment her father had lost his head on the steps of the sept of Baelor. 

As soon as Joffrey had heard about Sansas flowering, he had announced he would wed and bed her as soon as possible. 

“A King needs an heir. Especially in times of war”, Joffrey had declared at court, shortly after Cersei had made it official.

That had been two days ago. Joffrey ignored any of his uncle’s and small council’s reasoning to postpone the wedding until Stannis was defeated. Even Cersei couldn’t convince Joffrey by saying they needed time to make a wedding dress, appropriate for the future Queen.

“The daughter of a traitor needs no fancy dress. She will wear whatever she already possesses or she can go naked to the sept”, he had said. 

After that Cersei had tried to convince him to at least wait until her moonblood had passed.

“I once told her, I would make her a son as soon as she would bleed. A king should keep his promises and no stop this talk, it starts to bore me,” was the only thing Joffrey had answered.

Sansa was sitting at her dressing table. Shae was braiding her hair in the southern way, she had once admired Cersei for wearing. Now she hated it. 

She eyed herself in the mirror. Yesterday she had been told that she would definitely marry Joffrey today. Sansa had cried the whole night, unable to find sleep. The fact that she still had cramps caused by her moonblood didn’t help either. Her eyes were red rimmed and she was dead tired.

“How will I survive this day”, Sansa asked herself while she grabbed the doll, that her father had gifted her, from the table with shaking hands.

Sansa traced the fine details the craftsman had worked into its wooden face with her finger. Again, Sansa regretted the harsh words she had said, when her father had brought her the doll, to distract her from her dire wolf´s death. She pressed the doll to her chest.

Sansa feared what tonight would happen. Shae had tried to explain to her yesterday what happens between man and woman, but it only increased Sansas fear of having to share the bed with Joffrey.

“It’s finished, Milady”, Shae said.

Sansa carefully touched the braids to make sure they were correct and in place.

Sansa wore her simple blue dress she had brought with her from Winterfell. It didn’t fit her properly anymore, since she had started to get more womanly curves. It was a bit short and tight around her chest.

“This isn’t how my wedding was supposed to happen” Sansa thought to herself. 

As child she had often planned with Jeyne Poole, how her wedding should be. 

“Thank you, Shae”, Sansa said and tried to smile warmly at her, but it took every ounce of energy she had left to keep herself from bursting into tears right where she stood.

Shae grabbed her hand and gave it an encouraging squeeze.

The door opened and Cersei entered the room with Ser Meryn and the Hound in tow.

Shae bowed her head and murmured ´Your Grace´.

“Your grace”, Sansa also said and clasped her hands together to keep them from trembling.

“You look pale, little dove. Is your red flower still blooming?”

Sansa lowered her eyes to avoid Cersei’s smirking face and the grin of Ser Meryn behind her.

“Yes, Your Grace”, Sansa said with all the dignity she had left. It wasn’t the first time Cersei - liked to humiliate her - and it wouldn’t be the last time.

Cersei let her eyes travel over Sansa and her ill-fitting dress. 

“Ser Meryn, the cloak”, Cersei said and he handed her a folded grey cloak. Cersei unfolded it and revealed the direwolf that had been embroidered onto it.

Instead of the strong and fierce wolf of her house, the wolf on her maiden cloak had his head bowed in fear. Another humiliation towards her and her family.

“Smile Sansa. You should be happy. Today you become Queen. Isn’t that all you ever wanted? Every girl in the Seven Kingdoms envies you”, Cersei said with a teasing voice while handing over the cloak to Shae.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

Cersei turned to leave.

“Hound, Meryn bring her to the sept and be quick about it, the court is already waiting.”

Cersei left the room and Shae fastened the cloak around her neck. The way Meryn gazed at her made a cold shiver run down her spine.

Shae gave her hand another small squeeze and Sansa was ready.

She didn’t look up when she started to leave her room, so Sansa was more than surprised to see that the Hound was offering his arm to her. 

While the Hound has never been exactly kind to her, he hadn’t been cruel to her either. He had never hit her, unlike the other knights of the Kingsguard. While ser Meryn had enjoyed stripping and beating her in front of the Iron Throne, the Hound had given her his cloak to cover her naked skin. She still kept it in her cedar chest for some reason. He had been the one to safe her during the bread riots a week earlier. While everyone had forgotten her, he had come back and pulled these men off of her, before they could complete what they had planned to do.

They walked the path to the castle sept in silence. She could only hear some of the servants who passed their way snicker behind her back.

_I am a wolf_ , Sansa thought, _I can be brave_.

\-------------

At the door to the sept Tyrion Lannister awaited them. Joffrey had decided that his uncle should be the one to give her away to her husband to be.

“My lady, you look beautiful”, Tyrion said. A kind lie, but a lie anyway.

“Thank you My Lord.”

“I am sorry for what is about to happen. I pleaded Joffrey to postpone the wedding, so I have more time to broker an exchange with your brother…”

“My brother is a traitor as is my mother and my father before them.” 

These words easily came out of her mouth. It was like a prayer she had to repeat endlessly to avoid beatings and other punishments.

Tyrion fortunately didn’t say anything else, but offered her his arm to her. Sansa accepted it and took one last breath before she entered the sept.

Joffrey waited for her next to the septon. A smug smirk on his face. Only the members of the court were present. Lady Stockworth and her daughters, Varys, Grandmaester Pycelle and every other Lord and Lady that hadn’t left the capital. Sansa tried to keep her face as neutral as possible. Sansa knew what a pathetic sight she must be. The daughter of one of the eldest houses of Westeros walked down to her husband to be by a dwarf with a dress that was far too small to fit.

“Thank you uncle”, Joffrey said in an arrogant voice, making her stomach turn. 

Joffrey eyed her closely, smirking at the pathetic sight.

“You look pretty”, he said teasingly.

“Thank you, Your Grace.”

The septon cleared his throat and started with the ceremony.

“You may now cloak the bride and bring her under your protection.”

Protection, Sansa thought bitterly. Joffrey loosened her maidenscloak, but instead of handing it over to his uncle he simply threw it on the ground and kicked it away with his foot, causing some laughter in the gathered crowed and a smirk from his mother.

He fastened his own cloak on her shoulders and she twitched slightly at the feel of his hands on her.

While repeating the vows, the only thing Sansa was thinking about, was why her brother, why her brother hadn’t exchanged her for the queen’s brother.

After they had exchanged their vows Sansa stiffened at the kiss Joffrey pressed on her lips biting her lower lip, drawing blood and making her taste her own blood.

Sansa simply stood quietly besides Joffrey while he waved his hand at the applauding crowd. 

\------------------

The feast was a small affair. Sansa couldn’t eat a bite. She pushed her food around with her fork, while Joffrey drank his third cup of wine. 

When the musicians started to play, Joffrey dragged her to the dancefloor. Sansa remembered how she once had loved Joffrey for his dancing skills, but now he let his hands roam over her body, making her want to wrench.

Sansa had to bite her tongue to keep herself from yelping when his hand touched her right breast. Joffrey saw that she got out of step and clapped his hands to quiet down the room.

“Time for the bedding, an heir needs to be conceived. The feast shall be continued after the bedding ceremony.”

The part of the wedding Sansa feared the most came quickly closer. The bedding ceremony and the actual bedding.

The ladies of the court started to swarm around Joffrey to pull him out of the hall.

“Hound, Meryn bring my wife to my chamber”, Joffrey ordered before he disappeared out of the hall.

Sansa stood lost on the dancefloor, when she felt a strong hand on her shoulder. Sansa turned and saw that it was the Hound. His face was stoic, but his eyes held something Sansa couldn’t really point out. _Was it pity_?

“Come now, little bird”, he said.

Sansa nodded. They left the hall and Sansa walked between Sandor Clegane and Ser Meryn.

They walked the whole way through the corridors of the Red Keep without speaking a word. Sansa only felt her heart beating quicker with every step she took, while her stomach and lower belly cramped even more than they had been before.

Clegane opened the door to the royal bedchamber and gave her something like a small nod before gently pushing her into the chamber and closing the door behind her.

\------------

Joffrey sat in a cushioned chair. He only wore his breeches and he was loading his crossbow, while eying her like she was his newest prey.

Sansa had no idea what to do now, so she simply stood there trying to not do anything to cause Joffrey’s wrath.

“Sansa, come here”, he said. He calls me like a dog, Sansa thought, while she carefully walked over where he sat, not raising her eyes of the floor.

“Your Grace”, Sansa said as calm as she could.

“Get rid of that rag you call dress. Let’s see what the she wolf offers the lion”, he said with a voice dripping with spite.

Sansa took a deep breath and walked over to the large four-poster bed that dominated the room. Sansa just wanted to climb onto it, when a crossbow bolt hit one of the four posters. Sansa shrieked in surprise.

“No not the bed. The daughter of a traitor doesn’t deserve a bed. You are not here to sleep comfortably. Your only purpose is to give me a son and you better be with child soon or I will put your head next to the one of your traitor father.”

“But…but… where…” Sansa stammered.

“You are really that stupid like mother said.”

He pointed to some furs that lay on the ground.

“No…no…please Your Grace…you can’t…”

“I can’t?”, Joffrey asked in a low voice, putting the crossbow aside walking over to her. 

“Oh no!” Sansa thought.

“I AM THE KING!”, he yelled in her face. 

Sansa felt hot tears pool in her eyes and her facade began to crack. 

“Your Grace…I only meant…” Sansa tried but before she could finish the sentence Joffrey slapped her so hard that she stumbled and fell to the ground. Blood leaking from her broken lip.

“I WILL SHOW YOU WHAT LIONS DO TO WOLVES!”, he yelled, while he started to tear her skirts apart and the lacings on her back. 

Sansa remembered the bread riots, but this time no one would come to save her.


	3. Sandor

How Sandor hated that arrogant blond twat. He stood next to Meryn fucking Trant in the sept of the Red Keep, watching how the boy that, through some curse, had become king got married. 

He kept an eye on that little bugger since he left his mother but Sandor had never seen him as excited as the moment his mother told him that the little bird had finally started to bleed.

Since the day the boy had demanded her father’s head, Sandor knew that her only chance to ever leave the capital again, would have been an exchange before she flowered. All servants in the keep had been whispering about it. When he had followed the sound of her weeping only two days ago Sandor knew she was truly lost now.

Sandor didn’t know why he had this soft spot for this girl, with her head so full of songs and lies about chivalry. He had never cared about anybody. The hate on his brother and Dornish red made him get up every morning. Maybe it was the way she had tried to comfort him when he escorted her back to the keep after her father’s tourney, maybe it was something else or maybe it was nothing. But still, he had kept her from throwing the blond cunt off the battlements and he had given her his white cloak when the boy had ordered the fucking knight that stood beside him to strip and beat her for a victory of her brother. Instead of gawking like everyone else, he had the decency to at least advert his eyes. He still had to hear his so called brother of the Kingsguard bragging about her sweet tits that evening. He had drowned himself in sour red this evening, to suppress his urge to kill them all. 

Sandor had never been interested in the sick games Joffrey played since he was a child; after all he had been the one to find the cat Joffrey had gutted to see the kittens inside. But every time Joffrey taunted the Stark girl it did something to him. Maybe that was the reason why he had fought his way back through the crowd of peasants to save her from being raped.

_Ironic_ , Sandor thought to himself, while he watched them say their vows in the light of the seven buggering gods.

Tonight Joffrey would rape her, even if it was legitimized as his right by this pointless ceremony. He had saved her only to let it happen a few days later. The gods really knew no mercy for her.

\--------------

The ceremony ended and Joffrey waved to the cheering Lords and Ladies in the sept with a smug smile playing on his face. 

_Now he is smirking_ , Sandor thought. _But soon he will wet himself, when Stannis Baratheon will arrive to demand his crown_.

The little bird only stood still next to him, pale looking and more gracefully than he had ever seen her. During the whole feast afterwards Sandor couldn’t stop looking at her. Her eyes always cast down on her plate, while she pushed the food on it around. 

Sandor couldn’t help but think that she had finally realized that no one could save her now. Not her father, not her fucking brother, who loved playing king obviously more than his sister and definitely not one knight out of her stories.

When Joffrey ordered him and Trant to bring her to his chamber, while the ladies took care of him, he walked over to the little bird who looked completely lost on the dancefloor. 

He carefully touched her shoulder.

“Come now, little bird”, he said and tried to avoid the red rimmed, blue pools that were her eyes.

The girl didn’t say a word but fell in line between him and Trant.

When he gently pushed her into the royal chamber, he tried to give a reassuring nod, even if he didn’t know why.

When the door closed, he felt like the greatest sinner in Westeros for the first time in his life.

He leaned against the wall left of the door, while Trant stood on the other side.

“Little bird?”, Trant asked teasing. 

“What?”, Sandor growled back trying to sound uninterested.

“I heard what you called her back in the hall. Can it be that the fearsome Hound has a soft spot for that traitor whore?”

“You better shut your cunt mouth, if you know what’s good for you”, Sandor growled.

 

“I can hardly believe that you didn’t fuck her when you went for her during the riots”, Trant said challenging. 

Sandor felt his mouth twitch.

“I prefer my woman flowered, not like you. Everybody knows you take them as young as you can get them, you sick bastard.”

“I am the King”, Joffrey yelled so loud they could clearly hear him through the heavy oak door.

The little bird had obviously said something wrong to cause this reaction.

Sandor’s fist clenched, when the high pitched yelp of the Stark girl and the sound of a slap could be heard.

“I will show you what lions do to wolves”, Joffrey yelled and Trant chuckled next to him.

“Now the show begins”, Trant said cheerfully.

Sandor said nothing. 

“I hope the King does good on his promise, should the girl not be with child after tonight.”

“What are you talking about Trant?”, Sandor asked annoyed.

“The King told me yesterday he would chain her up naked in Fleebottom, should the slut not be with child within a fortnight, so the queen could serve the people.”

In his mind’s eye he could already see these filthy creatures have their way with Sansa. He felt the same rage start to rise in him the day he had pulled these filthy creatures off Sansa in the shabby back alley. Before he knew what he was doing he started to turn to the door.

“Dog, what are you…”, before Trant could finish Sandor drove his dagger deep into the knight’s throat. His eyes widened in shock, as he desperately tried to press his hands to the wound. 

Sandor kicked against the door and stormed into the room.

His eyes traveled over the empty bed and the crossbow bolt in one of the posters. His eyes finally reached the blond twat that tried to get up from the furs on the ground. 

“Dog what are you doing here?”

Sandor looked over to Sansa who had curled into a ball, clenching the shreds of her dress close around her shaking body. The sight only fueled his rage more.

“DOG!”, Joffrey yelled to get his attention back, “YOUR KING ASKED YOU WH…”

Before Joffrey could finish, Sandor’s fist hit his throat, crushing his windpipe. Joffrey fell to the ground desperately clawing at his throat, hoping to get his breath back. 

Sandor never before had enjoyed seeing someone die this much. He knew this boy since he was born, but for some reason he would do it again right away without hesitation. 

Gurgling sounds escaped his mouth when life left his body. When he finally stopped moving Sandor carefully walked over to the bed, where Sansa was now sitting with her back against the corner of the bed. She had her legs pulled to her chest, starring at Joffrey’s dead body.

He knelt down beside her and gently placed his hand on her shoulder.

“Little bird, look at me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next PoV: Sansa


	4. Sansa

Sansa couldn’t tear her eyes away from Joffrey’s lifeless, bloody body that was lying on the floor nearby. A few moments ago he had been tearing and ripping her dress apart. Sansa had stopped to resist after Joffrey’s third punch in her stomach. She had closed her eyes at some point, when Joffrey had started to tear at her smallclothes. 

Sansa didn’t open her eyes again until she heard the door burst open and suddenly Joffrey’s weight and stale breath of wine left her. It all happened so fast and before she could realize what was happening, Joffrey laid on the ground, his life quickly leaving his body. 

Sansa couldn’t look away while the person who ordered the murder of her father died in front of her eyes.

“Little bird, look at me.”

She hadn’t even realized that Clegane had walked over to her and now knelt beside her.

Sansa turned to him, still hugging her knees to her chest. His eyes lacked the usual hatred. Instead they held something else. Sansa had never seen it before in his grey eyes.

“Little bird are you hurt?”, he asked as softly as he managed, lightly touching her cheek with his large calloused finger.

Sansa lightly winced at his touch. She only could imagine how bruised her cheek must be by now.

Sansa shook her head.

“Did he…?”

Sansa hugged her legs tighter and remembered Joffrey’s finger on her body.

“No…no he didn’t…you came just in time…or…or”, Sansa whispered in a tiny voice. _Or I would have been his for the rest of my life_. 

“It’s alright little bird, it’s alright. Come.” He held his large hand out to her and Sansa shyly took it. Was this really Sandor Clegane the person who always had growled at her?

He helped her up and Sansa sat down on the bed and looked over to Joffrey’s body. Sandor handed her his cloak and Sansa wrapped it around her like she had done it before.

“You killed a king.”

He sat down next to her and the bed sunk under his weight.

“Aye. Now I am not only a monster, but also a kingslayer.”

“What… what do we do now?”

“I am a dead man if I stay. They may believe you, if you tell them I killed him. Maybe they will exchange you for the Kingslayer.”

Sansa felt herself tense. They won’t believe me. Cersei will order Ser Illyn to take my head before I can open my mouth.

“Or I could take you with me and we decide what we do, when we finally leave this fucking shithole of city behind.”

“Please take me with you. I…I… they will kill me if I stay, I know it. They will never believe me.”

“Calm yourself girl.”

Sandor stood up and walked to the door and Sansa jumped a little when he dragged the body of Ser Meryn into the bedchamber. Sansa had completely forgotten that Trant had been guarding the door with Clegane.

Sandor looked out of the window.

“Alright, it’s still not the hour of the wolf. The feast will continue for hours and the rest of the Keep will be distracted, too. If we are lucky, we have ‘till the morning until they find the bodies.”

“San…San…Sandor, do you have a plan?”, Sansa asked carefully. She had never called him by his first name and it felt wrong to call him Clegane or Hound. He had saved her again and they would both be hunted down for Joffrey’s death.

Sandor looked at her like she had just grown a second head. He was probably not used to be called by his given name.

“Aye, we go to your old room first. You need a new dress and maybe some personal belongings. After that to mine and as quick as we can to the stables.”

Sansa nodded.

“And what if someone sees us?”

Sandor petted his sword.

“I will kill every fucker that stands between us and our escape.”

Sansa knew that she should have been shocked at this declaration, but right now she didn’t care. She just wanted to get away as far and fast as she could.

Sansa nodded and Sandor checked the corridor before he gestured that it was empty. Sansa tried to keep his pace, but the cramps in her lower belly got worse and Joffrey’s punches hadn’t helped either.

When Sansa stopped for a short moment, leaning against the wall to keep her from collapsing and bending over in pain, Sandor gently picked her up and walked down the empty hall as fast as he could. Sansa didn’t make a sound while she clawed into his chest armor.

Sandor opened the door to her old room and carefully sat her down. He checked the corridor again before he closed the door behind them.

“Alright, little bird. Get a new dress and what else you might need, but don’t take too much, we have to travel light and fast. Hope you have a plain dress and riding boots.”

Sansa’s riding boots from Winterfell were way too small by now, so she only had the soft deerskin shoes she wore every day. Sansa opened her cedar chest and looked through the few dresses she had. The blue one hang in shreds off of her body, her pale blue silk dress had been shredded during her beating in the throne room and her pink one had been ruined during the breadriots. 

Cersei had told her she had ordered a new dress in her generosity for Sansa, when she had flowered but it hadn’t been delivered yet. 

Sansa found the last dress she had. The one she had worn during her father’s tourney. It might be a bit small, but better an ill-fitting dress than none.

Sansa took it and walked behind the screen, while Sandor checked the fruits that were in a bowl on the table and put them into a bag.

Sansa slipped out of the ruins of her dress and winced when she saw a bruises blooming on her stomach, right where Joffrey had hit her. Furthermore, she saw that her smallclothes had bloody stains. Sansa hadn’t had the chance to change the cloth Shae had told her to wear for her moonblood since the morning.

Sansa quickly washed herself with the water in the basin that was still left from this morning, quickly changed her smallclothes and put a new cloth in them. She quickly slipped into her dress and tried to tie the lacing but Sansa couldn’t reach them properly.

Sansa had to swallow at the thought of what she was about to ask him. Her septa wouldn’t approve, she was sure.

“Sandor, I need help with the lacings, could you…?”, Sansa asked carefully and she heard his heavy steps indicating him coming over.

Sansa felt her face flush when she turned to give him access to the lacings. His finger set to work. It was obvious that he wasn’t used to tying dresses, but he quickly tied lacing after lacing.

“Not so tight”, Sansa breathed when Sandor tied one of them too tight.

“Better?”, he rasped after he loosened the lacing a bit.

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Save your courtesies for later, we have to hurry.”

Sansa nodded and quickly took some things from her dressing table she might need. She hadn’t any additional clothes so she only took her hairbrush, additional rags for her moonblood, her sewing needles and some threat, her father’s doll and her cloak.

Sandor gave a strange look when he saw the doll.

“Got everything you need little bird?”

“Yes.”

Sandor opened the door and carefully looked down the corridor before gesturing her to follow him.

They didn’t meet anyone and therefore quickly reached his chamber.

Sansa looked around while he gathered the things he needed. A simple bed with a straw mattress. A small table with one chair and an oak closet.

“Give me your stuff”, he growled and he packed her things in one horse bag followed by some bags with gold and some other things Sansa didn’t recognize.

“Come girl, time to leave this damn place. Keep your head covered and stay close to me.”

Sansa only nodded. She was far too nervous to say anything.

Sandor led them through corridors she had never seen before and Sansa completely lost the orientation. Somehow, they ended up in the stables and Sandor led her to the farthest box. There was the absolutely biggest horse she had ever seen.

“Don’t come to close to him or he will bite you”, Sandor warned her. 

“We will ride together. Stranger is strong enough for both of us and he won’t tire as quickly as these other horses.”

Sandor quickly readied the horse, before turning to her again. 

“Hide here in the shadow, I need to get something. Stay hidden if someone comes. I will be back as soon as I can.”

Sansa cowered in the shadow and Sandor disappeared. She said one silent prayer after another pleading the gods to keep him save and let him return quickly. Should they be found they would be dead before sunrise.

Sansa heard steps coming closer and her heart started to race as the sound got louder.

“Little bird?”

“I am here”, Sansa answered to the rough voiced question.

She raised from the shadow and Sandor stood in front of her with one large bag in his hands.

He led his horse out of the box and easily lifter her up in the saddle. Sansa had never liked riding. It only got her smelly and sore.

Sandor fastened the bag on the saddle and swiftly mounted behind her.

He carefully led his horse outside.

“Keep your head covered. I’ll pull my cloak around you as much as possible.”

Sansa nodded.

“And no chirping.”

The yards of the keep were empty; only two Goldcloaks guarded the main gate.

“Hound, where are you going and who is that with you?”, one of them asked.

“The king told me I could take a leave for the night, after he was finished with his wolf bride. Found that kitchen wench. Now bugger off before I lose my patience.”

“If I had to listen how the king fucks his bride, I would need a wench too.”

“I would fuck that Stark wench too”, the other Goldcloak said.

Sansa tensed slightly.

“Go Hound.” The Goldcloak finally said.

Sandor kicked his horse and quickly rode down and into the city.

The streets were mostly empty, except for some drunken men yelling in Fleabottom.

They finally reached the Gate of the Gods. The Goldcloaks didn’t bother who they were, since they were busy with some whores. Sandor kicked his horse into gallop and they quickly disappeared into the night.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next chapter: Sandor


	5. Sandor

They had ridden the whole night. Sandor had stayed on the Kingsroad until the first sunrays shone upon the landscape and the fields. After that Sandor had led Stranger off the road into the woods and continued riding as long as he could.

He was glad that they had escaped Kings Landing this easy without being noticed. He had been surprised how the little bird didn’t question anything he told her.

She had not even tried to chirp hours after they had left the city. Even if Sandor found her courtesy annoying most of the time, it was a part of her and he started to miss it after only a few hours.

Shortly before sunrise Sansa had fallen asleep in the saddle and Sandor had laid his arm around her waist to prevent her from falling off the horse.

It made Sandor smile when she grabbed his arm and nestled closer against him.

“Who would have thought that”, Sandor asked to himself,” a week ago she couldn’t look in my face and now she is sleeping against my chest, holding my arm.”

Nearly around midday Sandor felt himself on the brink of falling asleep.

He had found a small clearing in the woods with a small stream. Sansa was sleeping so deeply, she didn’t even notice when Sandor stopped his horse.

He carefully moved the arm she was holding.

“Sansa, wake up.”

Sansa stirred.

“W…What? What time is it?”, Sansa sleepy asked.

“Around midday. You fell asleep and I didn’t want to wake you.”

“Sorry I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“It’s alright little bird, I know you hadn’t much sleep lately.”

Sandor dismounted his horse and held Sansa by the waist to lift her down.

“Where are we?”, the girl shyly asked.

“West of the Kingsroad, about forty miles from the Godseye. Stranger needs to rest and we need some too. We continue when the sun goes down. Less chance to get spotted.”

“I see.”

Sandor pulled the saddle from Stranger’s back and petted his side. 

“Umm Sandor…”, the little bird peeped up.

“What is it girl? Spit it out”, he growled a bit harsher than he had planned to.

Sansa straightened her shoulders and looked him straight in the face.

“Stop calling me girl. You know firsthand that I have flowered”, she said with some fierceness in her voice.

“The little bird has talons”, Sandor said teasingly.

Sansa made a pouting face.

“I only wanted to ask, if I could help you with something.”

Sandor rubbed his face. He didn’t expect Sansa to offer help. Most high born he met, never bothered to do anything.

“Alright little bird. Here take the saddle bags and the horse blanket. Help yourself with some food, while I water and brush down Stranger.”

Sansa took the blanket and the bags and placed them near a large tree.

Sandor led Stranger to the stream and his horse drank greedily. Sandor knelt down and quickly washed his face with the cold water. 

He led his horse closer to where Sansa sat on the blanked eating some of the bread and cold meat, he had gotten from the cooks in the Red Keep before they left. They had been curious why he demanded this much food in the middle of the night but Sandor simply said that Joffrey ordered it and that did the trick. He even got several wine skins.

Sandor staked Stranger and began to brush down the huge black beast. After he was done with it and Stranger started to feast on the fresh green grass of the clearing Sandor sat down on the blanket across from Sansa.

Sansa was nibbling on a piece of cold roast and licked the juice of her finger when she was finished. Sandor chuckled lightly and Sansa blushed at being caught during such an unladylike behavior.

Sandor took a piece of bread and started to eat only interrupted by drinking some Dornish Red out of one of the wineskins. The little bird had taken out a comb and started to brush out her hair after she had finally loosened the disheveled southern braid of her wedding. 

Her auburn curls cascaded down her back and Sandor couldn’t stop watching how she brushed through them until they shone. 

In bright daylight, the bruise on her left cheek looked even nastier.

He leaned over and carefully stroked the bruised cheek with his index finger.

“Does it hurt little bird?”

Sansa slightly winced at his touch.

“A little.”

Sansa put her brush away and folded her hands in her lap.

“You were right.”

“Little bird?”, Sandor asked, not knowing what she meant.

“You told me I would be glad of the hateful things you would do one day, when you would be everything standing between me and Joffrey and you were right. I am glad you were there. I can never repay you. I had given up before you came.”

Sandor saw tears well in her blue eyes.

“You don’t have to repay me.”

“Why did you do it then?”

_Good question_ , Sandor thought.

“Maybe I was fed up with seeing you getting hurt.”

A small smile played around the corners of her mouth.

It somehow made his heart swell to see her smile at him. People never smiled at him. They only averted their eyes or looked disgusted.

“I need some sleep. Best you try to get some too. Stranger will warn us if someone comes close.”

Sansa looked a bit hesitant.

“Don’t fear girl I won’t lay a hand on you.”

Sansa ignored him calling her girl again and nodded.

“I know; you won’t hurt me.”

Sansa wrapped her cloak around her lying down on the large blanket.

Sandor followed her lead and quickly dozed off.

\----------

Sandor didn’t sleep deep. His life as soldier had made him react to every sound around him, so he woke up several times, when Sansa got up to do whatever she might have done.

In the late afternoon Sandor was alarmed by a distant sound, resembling thunder.

“What is that sound?”, Sansa asked pulling her cloak closer around her.

Sandor looked at the sky. While the sun would soon start to fade away, the sky was clear of any clouds.

“An army on the march.”

“Can that be my brother?”, Sansa asked with hope in her voice.

“Unlikely”, Sandor growled.

“You brother had been in the west, when we last heard of him. That must be the old lion rushing back to Kings Landing to save his brats from Stannis Baratheon.”

Sandor got up from the blanked and started to pack their bags.

“Where are we going?”, Sansa asked.

“That depends. I can bring you to your brother; he might even give me some gold, if he doesn’t take my head. I will probably look for a passage to Essos.”

“You really could bring me to him?”

“Yes I can, but you should know one ugly truth before. You won’t stay unmarried for long, I can promise you that and this time I won’t be standing in front of the door to save you again.”

Sansa seemed to think about that for a long time.

“It’s my duty to marry for the benefit of my family and my brother will choose an honorable man”, she muttered in the end. She sounded like she tried to convince herself.

“If you say so little bird. Alright, I will bring you to your brother and then I will leave.”

Sansa quickly packed their belongings while Sandor readied Stranger.

_Naïve little girl_ , Sandor thought, while fastening the saddle. _As if your brother gives a shit on your happiness. You are a walking maidenhead and nothing more for him._

Sandor fastened the bags on the saddle and lifted Sansa up before mounting behind her. He gave their camp one last glance to check if they had everything, before kicking Stranger and riding off.


	6. Sansa

They were riding for weeks now. Sandor had avoided the Kingsroad and instead rode cross country.

While Sansa didn’t exactly enjoy traveling by horse, the thought of being reunited with her mother and brother made it bearable. She couldn’t help but thinking about what Sandor had told her the whole time. What if her brother really would marry her off to a cruel man? What if she would have to endure pain and humiliation every night for the rest of her life?

No, her brother wouldn’t do this. Robb loved her and Mother wouldn’t accept it either. She wouldn’t right?

A part of her could hear Sandor laughing at her thoughts. She didn’t want to believe him, but he had never lied to her. The thought, that he could be right again, scared Sansa.

During their journey they had passed dozens of burned down villages so far. The Riverlands were in ruins. Burned down fields as far as one could look.

This morning she had been able to see the giant towers of Harrenhal in the distance. 

“Where are we exactly?”, Sansa asked turning around to see his face. Sansa had lost her orientation since they had ridden into the deep woods.

“North west of Harrenhal. Maybe a few more weeks and we reach Riverrun.”

Sansa couldn’t wait to finally sleep in a soft bed again and take a hot bath.

After the provisions Sandor had brought with him had run out, he had started to lay traps and so he had been able to at least catch some food for them. 

Sandor stopped Stranger.

“Why did we stop?”, Sansa asked.

“Hush. There is someone. Behind that broken wall.”

Sandor dismounted.

“Who can that be?”, Sansa asked. Please don’t let it be bandits, she thought.

“No soldiers for sure.” He lifted her from the horse and handed her the reins.

“Stay here I look.”

He pulled his sword and carefully walked towards the overgrown wall.

He stepped into the hole in the wall and lowered his sword. 

Sansa could hear his thundering laughter and he gestured her to come to him.

Sansa walked over with Stranger in tow.

“You won’t believe me what I found, little bird.”

Sansa carefully looked around Sandor’s frame and saw a fat boy and strong young man. Between them stood a young boy with short, brown hair. He looked familiar. Sansa narrowed her eyes.

“Arya?”, Sansa carefully asked.

“Sansa?”

By the gods! It was really Arya.

The girl ran into each other arms, sobbing openly.

“Sansa, why are you with the Hound?”

“He saved me. He took me from Kings Landing and wants to bring me to Robb and Mother.”

“He killed Mycah! He deserves to die!”, Arya yelled at her.

“He killed Joffrey and Meryn Trant to save me!”, Sansa yelled back.

“Joffrey and Trant are dead?”, Arya asked, taken aback.

“Aye. I killed them and you would do good to come with us. You three look like you couldn’t survive another night alone in the wilderness”, Sandor growled.

Arya refused at first, but her friends convinced her, that they were better off with the Hound than traveling alone through the war torn land.

\---------------

When they made their camp Arya and Sansa had a long talk about what happened after their father’s death. 

“…and then we fled Harrenhal after Roose Bolton took the castle.”

Sansa couldn’t help but think that Arya was born for these kinds of situations. Traveling around the land; living and sleeping in the mud.

“Why did he kill Joffrey?”, Arya asked.

“They forced me to marry him immediately when I flowered. Sandor stood outside the room with Ser Meryn, when Joffrey tried to… he killed them both before he could...”

“Gods Sansa! Did he try anything with you?”

“No!”, Sansa said in an accusing tone.

“No, Sandor never did anything to me but to help and save me over and over again.”

“Since when do you call the Hound by his name?”

Sansa was annoyed by her little sister’s interrogation.

“How would you call a man, who saved you twice from being raped and killed, who took you from the Lannister’s and offered you his help to bring you back to your family?”

Arya looked pouting.

“I still hate him, but since he saved you and killed Joffrey and Trant I will take him off my list.”

“Your list”, Sansa looked questioning.

“The list of people I want dead.”

Sansa pulled her cloak closer around her. 

_Soon we will be reunited with Mother and Robb_ , Sansa thought starring into the sky.


	7. Sandor

Sandor couldn’t believe that they had stumbled over the wolf bitch. They had traveled for another week since they had found them. They didn’t make as far as he hoped since they only had one horse. 

The elder one of the boys must be one of King Robert’s bastards. He had told them the story how the Gold Cloaks had searched for him. 

The fat boy on the other hand was a whining sissy. Sandor had once considered Sansa to be a sissy and he had expected her to complain at everything during her journey, but she had never complained once, neither about sleeping soaked in the rain on the ground, nor about being unable to eat properly for days, when he hadn’t caught anything.

This boy on the other hand was complaining about everything. It started shortly after he and Sansa had found them. Sandor had the little bird and her sister riding on Stranger while he led his black beast on his reins. The boy, that has been given the name Hotpie by some buggering idiot, had complained why the girls were allowed to ride while he had to walk.

The boy had nearly pissed himself when Sandor growled at him, that if he would walk more often he wouldn’t be that fat.

While the little wolf still continued to give him hateful glances all the time, she didn’t complain and it seemed that the girls grew closer over the things they talked about when they made camp every night.

The weather was getting worse with every day they traveled. Today it had started to rain as soon as they had broken camp.

They were just passing a village that had mostly been untouched by the war. Smoke came out of the chimney of the inn. As soon as the fat boy saw it he started to complain how nice it would be to have something warm to eat and to sleep in a dry, soft bed.

Sandor growled he didn’t want to spent time in places, where people could see them. The Lannisters probably paid well for every information they could gather. They had been incredible lucky so far and Sandor didn’t want to test their luck.

Sandor shot a glance at Stranger and the two girls sitting atop. The little wolf was just sitting there, her wet hair clinging to her head. Sansa on the other hand was shivering. No wonder, Sandor thought. Her dress and cloak were completely soaked from the rain. Sansa softly sniffled and the sound made Sandor decide.

“Aye, I think we can stay for one night”, Sandor said still looking at the little bird. Sansa gave him a tiny smile and it was the best payment he had ever gotten for something.

They went down into the village and Sandor lifted the girls of Stranger when they had reached the inn. Sandor tied up his horse and handed each of the boys one bag.

“It’s my money that pays for everything, so you will shut up and let me do the talking.”

The girls and they two boys nodded exhausted.

They entered the inn and were greeted by an elderly woman. 

“What can I do for you Ser?”

Sandor ignored the ’Ser’ and looked around in the common room. It was empty besides some young girls cleaning the tables.

“What’s the biggest room you have?”

“We have two rooms right under the roof. They are connected with a door, Ser. And they have three beds.”

“I take it. Have a bath brought up, and make sure the water is hot. We will eat down here later. And is there any chance you might have some dry clothes for the girls?”

“Aye Ser, but that won’t be cheap.”

Sandor pulled out three Gold Dragons from his tourney winning and handed it over to the woman, whose eyes went wide at seeing the gold. She immediately turned to the other girl scrubbing the tables.

“Lenda bring hot water to the top room and be quick about it.”

The girl stormed off and Sandor led the others up to the rooms.

They were simple rooms. Two beds stood in the larger of the two rooms alongside a table with a chair. Both rooms had a fireplace.

The girl came back with the tube and two simply dresses. Sandor told her to place the tube in the smaller room in which Sansa and her sister would stay. The girl did as demanded and then she was gone to get the hot water.

“Little bird, you share with your sister, help yourself with the hot bath and dry your clothes at the fire.” 

He turned to Gendry and Hotpie.

“You should do the same, after that we go down and eat.”

While the black-haired boy nodded, the other one spoke up.

“Why do they get a hot bath and we not?”, he asked in a whining tone.

Sandor sighed frustrated.

“Because they are ladies and frozen. You don’t need a bath Fatpie. You could survive the winter without a cloak, now get moving”, Sandor growled.

After the girl had brought water to fill the tube a last time, Sansa and her sister disappeared into the room. The boys dried their clothes at the fire while Sandor oiled and dried his armor and sharpened his sword. By some miracle his tunic hadn’t become wet.

While Hotpie stayed close to the fire, trying to warm his sorry ass, Gendry lied on the bed he was sharing with Hotpie.

They didn’t speak and the only sound was the cracking of the fire, the sound of the rain on the slate roof and the sound of splashing water from the other room from time to time.

Shortly after the boys had dressed again, the door of the other room opened a crack.

“Can we come out?”, Sansas voice peeped out of the room.

“Yes, nobody is running around with his cock visible. Now come I am starved.”

The little wolf looked sulking in the brown wool dress, that was too wide for her tiny body, but the one of the little bird fitted her better than the one she had been wearing. Maybe he would buy it for her, so she hadn’t to wear her ill-fitting once again.

They entered the main room and took their place in one of the far corners of the room. The girls stayed as hidden as possible.

They were alone for now, but Sandor still wanted to have a careful eye on everyone that entered.

As soon as they had sat down the innkeeper’s wife came with the serving girl that might have been her daughter. They brought bowls filled with steaming, thick, brown beef stew. Apparently gold did the trick in inns and so their bowls were filled with more meat than vegetables. 

The innkeeper also brought some loafs of bread.

Everyone ate greedily; even Sansa forgot her manners and wolfed down her bowl. The fat boy was complaining again, how his bread was way better than the bread they got. Sandor gestured to the inn keeper to fill their bowls again and handed him two Gold Dragons.

“One for the food and one for the dress.”

“Thank you, m’lord. I’ll bring the food right away.”

“And bring wine.”

“Yes m’lord.”

Shortly after the woman had filled their bowls again and brought a pitcher of wine, A few men entered the room, but only shot them a short glance, before turning to the inn keeper.

“What can I do for you, Sers? Rooms for the night?”, the woman asked.

“No time. Some food until the rain stops.”

“Yes mlord.”

Sandor didn’t know these men but their sigils told him that they were Freys.

They took their seats in the other corner of the room, but talked so loudly that they could still hear them clearly. Sandor gestured to the others to stay quiet and tried to listen to what they Frey’s were saying.

“Fucking rain. The young wolf should simply bend the knee. He doesn’t have a chance against the Lannister and the Tyrells.”

“He’s just a stupid boy. Why else would he have broken the marriage alliance with father?”

“He shamed our house openly.”

Interesting Sandor thought. The lion was playing with the rose now and the Stark boy lost the Freys in his army.

“And for what? A whore from the east!”

“It seems he has realized his mistake and Lothar and Blackwalder are in Riverrun. The young wolf wants to negotiate a new marriage alliance by marrying off his uncle.”

“He could offer his two sisters and his mother and father would still not forgive him.”

“He had offered one sister already when he came south. Too bad Elmar will never get her.”

“It wasn’t the young wolf who offered the girl, it was Lady Catelyn herself.”

“Should they, by some miracle, find the young wolves, they would marry them off before they got off their horses. They probably could stay on their horses, since they would ride to the Twins directly to marry. Maybe the gods have mercy; the one with the Tully look would be to my liking.”

The three Frey’s laughed at this.

Sandor looked to the girls. Both were just sitting still, Arya looked like she was angry and the little bird had fear in her eyes.

The Frey’s silently finished their bowls, before throwing the inn keeper some silver stags and riding off, after the rain had stopped.

A few minutes after the Frey’s had left, they went back to their rooms and Sandor told them to get some sleep.

The whole night Sandor couldn’t help but think that he was bringing the Stark girls to a new prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> New PoV next chapter


	8. Arya

Arya was angry. She had been the princess Elmar had talked about in Harrenhal. And her very own mother wanted to sell her off. For a bridge.

When she had lain in bed with Sansa after their dinner yesterday, like they had often back in Winterfell as young girls, Sansa had told her that the Hound had predicted this would happen, should they return.

It was still early morning when Clegane woke them. He wanted to get moving before someone could take note of them. Clegane had paid the innkeeper for another horse that had been in the stable. It was a sorry creature but still better than walking.

Arya thought it strange that Clegane spent so much money on things that weren’t for him. Yesterday he had only agreed to stay in the inn, when he had seen how soaked her sister had been. Same with ordering a second plate for everyone and buying the dress Sansa wore. Could it be, that the Hound had a soft spot for her sister? Sansa was different around him and different in general. Could it be that her sister also had a soft spot for the Hound?

Arya laughed at the thought. As if her lady sister would feel anything for that scarred ugly brute. She was probably still dreaming of the knights of flowers.

Hotpie had told them he wouldn’t travel with them. He had baked bread early in the morning and the innkeeper asked him to stay and he had accepted. 

_Betrayal on every side_ , Arya thought. _First by her brother and mother by betrothing her to a Frey and now her friend had left her_.

Gendry had just led the horse she would share with him out of the stable when Sansa came out of the inn with Clegane. 

They were obviously having an argument.

“You can’t know that!”, Sansa yelled at him.

“I know it! I told you after we fled and the Freys yesterday basically confirmed it!”

Arya walked over to them. Clegane saw her coming over and pointed with his finger on her.

“You two will be Freys soon, better believe that, but it won’t save your brother either. The old Lion won’t show mercy, now that he has the upper hand with the rose at his side! And I won’t be there to save you from the prick you will have to marry!”

Angry tears were running down her sister’s face.

“And what are the other options?! We only can go to mother and our brother! In the south there is only waiting death for us. The North is no more and aunt Lysa will only sent us to Mother.”

“We can go to Braavos,” Arya suggested.

Both turned to her.

“Don’t you want to see Mother and Robb again?”, Sansa asked in desperate tone.

“I do, but not if it means I have to marry a Frey. Sansa I never thought to say that but Clegane is right. We will become Freys if we return now. Robb has broken his promise to Lord Frey not thinking of us. I won’t pay for his sins by becoming a Frey. If you still want the Hound to bring you to Mother and Robb, I will go my own way from here. Tell them I sent them regards.”

Sansa glanced between her and Clegane before shaking her head.

“What should I do? What should I do?”, Sansa wept, hugging herself.

“I want to see them again but I don’t want to become a Frey just because Robb broke a promise.”

Arya could understand Sansas dilemma. She had always been close to Robb and their mother, while Arya had favored Jon and their father. Arya had no idea what she could say to Sansa, but Clegane spoke up.

“Little bird, I will bring you to your mother and brother if you really want that but we could also go to Essos. It hasn’t to be forever only until the war is over.”

Arya was surprised that a brute like him could be this tender.

“But how should we live, Sandor? I have nothing, you even paid for the dress”, Sansa said sadly.

“We will figure something out. Until then I have still my tourney winnings. It’s like your father pays, since it has been his tourney.”

Arya remembered. The Hound had been declared winner after saving Ser Loras against his brother.

“Sandor, we will never be able to repay you…”, Sansa said.

Arya had no idea what was happening before her eyes, so she just let them talk. She hadn’t even noticed that Gendry was standing next to her holding the horse on its reins.

“I don’t care about the fucking money! I care about to see you save and happy.”

Sansa seemed to be startled by that, but it only confirmed what she had suspected; the Hound really had a soft spot for her.

“You would really do this? Hide with us in Essos only to maybe return someday?”

“Aye, little bird.”

Sansa had calmed down and swiped away the tears left on her cheeks.

“I…I will go with you.”

“Can Gendry come with us?”, Arya asked bluntly.

Clegane looked at Gendry.

“I don’t see why not. If I pay for two I can also pay for three.”

“Thank you Ser…”, Gendry started.

“Fuck your Ser. I don’t do that for you. Let’s get going we have a long way ahead.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> next chapter later today!!!


	9. Sandor

The captain had told them they would arrive in Braavos today. Sandor was glad for it. He had never liked to travel by ship. During the Greyjoy rebellion he had to and he hadn’t liked it at all. 

It had taken them nearly a month to get to Saltpans. When they had stopped near Darry, the little bird recalled how she lost her direwolf there. Sandor still remembered the day. 

They had been lucky to be able to pass the Trident. Only a few hours after they had crossed, they had witnessed a battle between the Northmen and Lannister’s.

The Northmen on the southern side had been slaughtered. Sandor thought that a bad omen for the young wolf.

And he had been right.

They had stopped in another inn about two weeks away from Saltpans, since the weather was too bad to travel.

The whole inn was bursting with people, but Sandor had managed to find a room for all of them. All people in the inn only knew one topic; the young wolf had found his end at the Twins.

People were gossiping about the red wedding openly. How the head of the young wolf’s direwolf had been sewn to his body after he was stabbed by one of his bannermen, while his mother got mad with grief and slit the throat of lord Walder’s wife.

As soon as it was obvious that the little birds brother and mother had been murdered, he had pressed her against his chest and covert her ears, so she didn’t hear all the details. Gendry luckily did the same with Arya.

They had retreated to their room quickly and he gave Sansa credit that she somehow managed to stay quiet, while her whole body was already shaking and her lips were quivering.

As soon as they had closed the doors behind them, the girls had broken down and sobbed during the entire night. Arya had turned her sorrow into hate quickly, but Sansa had clung to him as if he was all she had left. 

While Sandor didn’t really know how to comfort her, he as well hadn’t the heart to push her away.

They left the inn the next morning and Sandor and Gendry had agreed that they needed to travel as fast as possible since both girls now were in more danger than ever.

When they reached Saltpans, they had luck and one ship to Braavos was just getting ready to leave.

Sandor had tried to buy a passage but the Captain didn’t agree to give up a dozen sacks of salt, for four passengers and a horse.

Sandor threatened to kill this fucking Braavosi where he stood, but then the little wolf had saved the day.

She had shown him a shabby coin and said some words he didn’t know and they got on the ship and even a cabin within the blink of an eye.

Sansa had been quiet for most of the journey. Barely ate and drank anything and it pained him to see her fade away like this.

The little wolf on the other hand couldn’t stop talking about how she would kill every single one on her little list.

“Sandor look”, the little bird peeped up next to him on the deck.

Sansa pointed to a giant statue appearing out of the fog.

“That must the Titan of Braavos, little bird.”

“He is so big”, Sansa said in awe.

A giant horn gave signal and Sansa jumped a little and clinched to his arm.

After they had anchored, they first had no idea where to go, so they looked for a tavern to sleep in for some nights and make plans for what they would do now.

Sansa was back in her shell of courtesies, thanking him for everything he did for them. Sandor knew it was her way to handle the loss of her family, so he didn’t mock her for it.

They decided to talk on the next day, since they were all exhausted by the journey.

Sandor awoke the next morning to Sansa shaking him desperately crying.

“Arya is gone.”


	10. Sansa

It had been a year since they had arrived in Braavos. Arya had disappeared in the first night, leaving a letter behind, telling them that she was going to find her mysterious killer friend. Gendry had been deeply hurt, that Arya hadn’t told him about it.

They had spent weeks after weeks looking for her all over Braavos but without success. Sansa had been desperate to lose her sister again but Sandor had always reassured her that she would return someday.

And Sandor had been right.

Sandor had bought an old house with a forge in the basement at the edge of the city. It wasn’t a luxurious place to live in, but it was one of the few estates in Braavos that had some land, so it had been perfect for Stranger. Gendry and Sandor had spent weeks to renovate the run-down building, but in the end they had a working forge and a relatively cozy place to life.

Two days after Gendry had opened the forge, Arya had stumbled in, bleeding heavily from several wounds in her belly.

Arya had told them that she had found the faceless men and had tried to become one of them, only to see that she could never turn away from her family and friends. She had failed one test and now one of the faceless was after her.

Gendry had never left her bedside, while Arya slept, drugged by milk of the poppy. The day Arya had returned, the faceless had tried to murder her in her sleep, but hadn’t expected a watchful Hound at her bedside. 

After that the faceless had never sent anyone else. Arya had thanked Sandor honestly for saving her. 

Gendry’s forge was profitable and it became one of the most known in the city quickly. While Gendry did all the metal work, Arya and Sandor sold what he made. Since more and more Braavosi noblemen came to the forge, Sansa had the idea to use her sewing skills to make dresses and the noblewomen of Braavos soon came to her to get new extravagant dresses and clothing.

\-----------------

Over the months it became obvious that Gendry and Arya were falling for each other. With every ´milady´ of Gendry, Arya got angry and that in return made him laugh. 

It warmed Sansas heart, that her sister found some kind of happiness, after all their losses. 

Sansa had used the time to think about her life and Sandor. He had saved her; he had been generous to her and her sister even when he didn’t have to. He had never asked for any compensation or repayment and Sansa started to ask herself, why he did it in the first place. When Sansa had asked him once, he had just growled back that he had his reasons and that he was ´no fucking knight in shining armor´.

Sansa didn’t stop after this, but asked him every time he bought or payed for something.

One day Sandor stormed out of the house and didn’t return for days. Sansa had been desperate, if she maybe had finally crossed the line, to make him leave them forever. Gendry had tried to comfort her. He told her, the Hound wouldn’t simply leave them.

And like Gendry said, Sandor returned a few days later dead drunk, murmuring one apology after another that he had left for too long. It seemed he didn’t really know where he was in his drunken state, so he didn’t even realize it had been Sansa to whom he spoke, when he babbled how much he wanted his little bird to love him.

Sansas heart fluttered at hearing that. Sansa watched Sandor while he slept out his drunkenness. His scars were hideous, but the good side of his face wasn’t too bad to look at. By now Sansa had learned more than once that looks weren’t everything. 

Joffrey had been good-looking at first, but he had turned out to be a monster. Same with the Frey her mother and brother would have chosen for her.

Sansa was curious and carefully touched his burned cheek with her fingers.

The tissue was rough and uneven. Sandor had stirred under her touch. A soft ´little bird´ escaped his lips and Sansa knew that this beast of man had completely fallen for her.

Days after Sandor had carefully asked her what he had told her. Sansa had been honest with him and told him she felt similar towards him. In the first months of their relationship, Sandor had often doubted if Sansa really meant it and some nasty arguments occurred between her and Sandor.

In the end it had been Arya to tell him to finally get over his insecurities and better start to believe, that Sansa really loved him.

Now a year after they had arrived in this free city they had built themselves a new life. Gendry was a successful blacksmith. He had made himself a name in Braavos. 

Arya helped him as good as she could in the shop. She and Gendry were in love with each other, even if both of them denied it towards Sansa and Sandor. Arya still had her list of people she wanted to kill, but they had heart news from Westeros, that the country fell deeper into chaos with every day that passed. They hadn’t decided when they might return home, but they weren’t in a hurry.

Sansa was known throughout the nobility of Braavos as the red headed tailor. Everybody who though themselves important came to the red headed tailor and her scarred husband.

Even if Sandor and Sansa weren’t married for true, they lived as if they were. With everything that came with it.

Sandor had first been hesitant, telling her they should marry first. After all she was the daughter of an ancient house, Sandor had told her. Sansa didn’t care about that anymore. She told him they could marry as soon as they had found a weirwood afterwards. That could take a while, since they didn’t grow in Essos.

Sandor had been gentler with her, than she had ever expected when they first shared the bed. 

Sandor himself worked for the Iron Bank. A man called Tycho Nestoris came someday, to ask him if he would be interested in helping the Iron Bank to get their money from customers that weren’t too eager to pay their debt.

Sandor had agreed and was glad he could use the skills he had for something useful.

Arya always called their little group a pack and they had grown quite close over the time.

Every evening Sansa lied in bed next to Sandor and thought about how glad she had been for the _hateful things_ he had done.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed this little story!
> 
> More stories soon :)

**Author's Note:**

> Leave a comment if you like.


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